


Bookworm

by winged-obsessor (canticle)



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Four Swords
Genre: Companionable Snark, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 16:54:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4487364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canticle/pseuds/winged-obsessor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blue and Vio spar both on and off the field.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bookworm

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Bookworm](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/134007) by winged-obsessor. 



> This is a redux of a fic I wrote back in October of 2010, mainly because I wanted to write some shameless porn but I didn't want to make a whole new setting for it. 8 pages later, here we are!

_“Hyah!”_

“That was a really good hit,” said Red approvingly, nudging Vio in the ribs. They sat under the shade of a large oak tree in the midst of a wide grassy field. Vio, engrossed in one of several novels he was carrying, made a noise of assent. “Aw, Vi, you weren’t even watching!”

“I do not need to,” said Vio. “It’s just Blue and Green sparring, and from Green’s voice it appears he is about at his limit.” He turned a page, then snapped the book shut with an annoyed look when Red tried to peek over his shoulder. “Aren’t you supposed to be judging their form?”

“Nah, they’re just about done anyway, and Green’s getting sloppy.”

“Not my fault!” yelled Green.

“Totally your fault!” Red yelled back. “Get your feet closer together or—ooh, too late,” he winced as Blue swept a leg between Green’s and knocked him flat to the ground. “That’s the match! Blue leads with five knockdowns, Green had three.”

“Was there ever any doubt?” Blue smirked, leaning down to give Green a hand up. “None of you spar enough!”

“That’s cause you’re so rough with us!” Green wheezed. “I’m done for the day.”

Blue let him go halfway up, sending him sprawling back into the grass. “Green,” he whined over Green’s startled noise, “you said you’d spar best three out of five with me!”

“Yeah, but that’s before you dropped my ass, you jerk!” Green rolled onto his stomach with a groan. “Spar with Red or Vio, just leave me out of it!”

“Ugh!” Blue threw up his hands, turning towards the tree where Vio and Red sat, but Red held up his hands in surrender immediately. “Fine! Vio, come spar with me!”

Vio, occupied with his book again, just shook his head.

“Come on!” Blue knocked it out of his hand with the tip of his sword, sending it tumbling across the grass. Red, sitting at Vio’s right, gasped in exaggerated shock. “If Green wasn’t tired already I’d just make him do it again—”

“It’s not my fault you’re a monster,” wheezed Green from where he lay, hat pulled down over his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. “I’m never circle-sparring with you again. Never ever.”

“How is this my problem?” Vio snapped, knocking Blue’s blade away when he waggled it teasingly in front of Vio’s face. “If you take my eye out with that I will murder you.”

“When was the last time you sparred with anyone?” Blue asked.

“Last week, with Green.” Vio reached for his book but Blue grabbed it before he could, tossing it a few more feet away. “If you do that again—“

“You’ll what?” Blue smirked. “Try and beat me up? Better just come and do it now, then—if you can.”

“You are _insufferable_ ,” Vio grumbled, heaving himself up. “If I win, you will leave me alone for the rest of the night and I get the room to myself for the evening.”

“Deal,” said Blue immediately. “If I win, though, you have to do whatever I tell you to do until noon tomorrow.” He grabbed Vio’s arm, pulling him to his feet, and handed him his Four Sword.

Vio stripped the extra pouches off his belt, kneeling to tighten the laces of his boots before he stood again and unsheathed his blade. “How do you want to do this?” he asked.

Blue faced him, sword at the ready. “Each hit with the flat of the blade is a point,” he said. “We fight to five points. Red, you willing to referee again?”

“Yeah!” said Red cheerfully, sitting up and crossing his legs. “Ready when you are!”

When Red called for them to start, Vio made the first move, whirling to Blue’s left and swinging his sword down to hit Blue’s calf with the flat of the blade. Blue blocked him, to his surprise, parrying his blade and shoving Vio back.

Vio was quickly put on the defensive; Blue was fast and aggressive with his sword, his attacks powerful and relentless. It wasn’t too long before the flat of Blue’s blade delivered a swift, stinging sharp to Vio’s side.

“Point to Blue!” Red called. “Back up a pace and begin again!”

Vio was more cautious this time, keeping Blue back with swift jabs at his torso as they circled each other. “What’s the matter?” Blue taunted, his blade ringing every time it met Vio’s. “Afraid of me?”

“No one rational would ever fear you,” said Vio with a roll of his eyes, feinting to his left to put the sun at his back. When Blue winced at the sudden glare, Vio used the opportunity to sweep his sword around and slap Blue in the thigh with it. “Point to me.”

“Nice one, Vio!” Red cheered. “Back it up, then start!”

Blue’s teeth were gritted as he charged back in again, and Vio knew he meant business this time. It was tricky trying to keep his footing between the slippery grass and Blue’s heavy strikes. “C’mon, Vio, just _fight_ me!” Blue growled when Vio backflipped away from him. “Cut it out with all the stupid dodging!”

“This ‘stupid dodging,’ as you call it, is the reason I need far less red potion than you,” Vio said with a grunt as he rolled under another swing. “Maybe you should attempt it occasionally.”

“Attempt it occ— _augh,_ I fucking _hate_ you sometimes!”

“The sentiment is mutual.” Vio moved to swing at him but suddenly Blue was in his face, his sword locked with Vio’s at the hilt.

He could see the spark of glee in Blue’s eyes a bare second before he shoved forward and yelled “Boo!”

Vio flinched, and that was his undoing.

He stepped back to regain his balance, but by chance or misfortune mis-stepped on a rock directly behind him and rolled his ankle. He swore as he stumbled, missing the opportunity to parry Blue’s next swing.

The tip of Blue’s sword buried itself into the meat of his shoulder.

“Fuck!” Vio dropped his sword to the ground, stunned breathless for a moment as pain washed through him. “Blue, don’t move an inch, you could sever something vital!”

“Shit! Red, get over here! Green, grab the first-aid kit!” Blue, to his credit, stood absolutely still, his sword rock-steady in his hand. The only sign of his discomposure was his pale face and slack jaw.

Red was at Vio’s side in a heartbeat, helping Blue to guide his sword out. The moment it was free Blue dropped it, and Vio sank to his knees with his hand over the wound. “You’re gonna have to let us look at that, Vi,” Red said, face drawn as Green jogged up beside them.

“Give me a moment,” Vio panted from behind clenched teeth. He could feel blood seeping from between his fingers. “You may have to cut the sleeve off.”

“Move your hand, let me check.” Green was all business, carefully loosening Vio’s grip and inspecting the damage. “You’ll need stitches in it, but it’s shallow enough that you didn’t slice through anything important. Other than muscle, of course. Blue, go boil some water.”

“Yeah,” said Blue in a low tone. “Yeah, okay.”

“Red, get me a stick to bite,” Vio said hoarsely. “I have a feeling this is going to be painful.”

Red did.

It was.

~~*~~*~~*~~

“I’m sor—”

“Stop apologizing.”

“But—“

“Blue. Shut. Up.”

~~*~~*~~*~~

“Vio, are you sure you don’t need—“

“You will not carry me. I’m not dying.”

“Are you sure?”

“Red. Stop.”

~~*~~*~~*~~

“It’s just over a mile to the inn, Vi. You gonna make it?”

“…yes.”

“You’re dragging your feet and you’re gritting your teeth. Here, put your arm over my shoulder—yeah, like that. Lean on me. You’ll be fine.”

“…thank you, Green.”

“No problem! Red, Blue, go run ahead and make sure they have the rooms ready.”

~~*~~*~~*~~

“And make sure you call us if you need us, okay?” Red said anxiously, wringing his hands. “We’ll just be right in the room next door, until we go to get stuff for dinner, but that shouldn’t take us more than half an hour.” He fussed with the covers tucked up over Vio’s waist until Vio pushed him away.

“I’ll be fine,” he said groggily. They’d gotten rooms, agreed that Vio would get one to himself, and dosed him halfway unconscious with red potion as they’d cleaned out his shoulder more thoroughly than field conditions would allow. “Thank you. Go away.”

“I’ll be back to change your bandages in a few hours,” said Blue from where he leaned on the door frame, a somber expression on his face. "Don't touch them in the meantime."

“Yes, yes, now go away,” Vio grumbled, turning his head to bury it in the cool cloth of the pillow beside him. “I am going to sleep. If you all stand over me and watch like I am some sort of invalid I am going to have to start hitting people.”

“Like you could catch us right now,” scoffed Blue. Green just shook his head and shoved him out of the room, Red waving as he closed the door behind them.

True to his word, Vio dozed, taking comfort in the silence and the softness of the sheets after long nights spent camping out in field and forest alike. When he woke again the room was dim, the light peeking in from between the cracks of the shutters suggesting evening sunset.

He felt much better—the red potion had taken effect, negating most of his pain while leaving him in a pleasant lassitude, as long as he didn’t move too fast. He eased himself up until his back was propped against the headboard, using his unwounded arm to rifle through the bag on his nightstand for his book.

Thus settled, he opened it, propped it against one bent knee for stability, and slid his free hand into his leggings.

~~*~~*~~*~~

In retrospect, he would regret the sequence of events that brought him to this—the extended time in the company of his brothers-in-arms, the lack of privacy he had when travelling with them, and his lowered inhibitions due to the red potion, but he would not regret the results.

~~*~~*~~*~~

Vio had just reached the section of his novel where the wealthy traveler _prostrates_ herself before the dashing buccaneer and _begs_ him to do as he will with her when his door slammed open. He did not shriek, but he did jerk his hand as quickly out of his pants as he can, which resulted in him banging his shoulder against the headboard, which lead to him swearing steadily and softly under his breath as he keeled over to the other side.

“Vio, I need to talk to you,” Blue said as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Vio didn’t respond; he was far too busy trying to get his breathing back under control. “Vio?”

“Go away,” Vio managed to rasp, curling in on himself.

“Shit, what did you just do? Did you tear your stitches?” Blue said, crossing to his bedside quickly. “Sit up, Vi, let me take a look.”

“Go away,” Vio said again, louder this time as he tried to pull his knees up towards his chest. “I am fine.”

“Well, you don’t look fine, so sit up and let me take a damn look, will you? Otherwise they’ll all tear and I’ll have to redo them!” Blue grabbed his shirtfront and hefted him up, putting pressure only on his unwounded shoulder, and practically climbed into Vio’s lap to look at the bandage.

“Blue, what are you doing?!” Vio snapped, shoving at him with his free hand. Blue turned his head to snap back and lost his balance.  
His flailing hand, looking for a hard surface to balance himself against, landed squarely on Vio’s lap.

He froze. So did Vio.

The silence could be cut with a dagger.

Blue breached it first. “The fuck have you been doing in here?” he asked harshly.

“What does it look like?” Vio snapped back, mortified, blood rising to his cheeks. “Why do you care?”

“I swear to Din if you tore your Goddess-damned stitches because you couldn’t wait to rub one out—”

“I tore my stitches because you couldn’t be bothered to knock!” Vio hissed.

“If you hadn’t been doing anything it wouldn’t have mattered if I hadn’t knocked!” Blue said, eyes narrowed.

“Look, Blue,” Vio said through clenched teeth, arousal and embarrassment and anger mixed equally in his tone. “I’ve had it up to _here_ with you today. Either get me _off_ —” he bucked his hips to make a point, taking spiteful pleasure at the way Blue recoiled— “or get _off_ of me and _leave_.”

Blue snarled in the face of a challenge like that, just as Vio had known he would, and clenched his hand tighter. Vio couldn’t help but buck his hips again—even through the blanket and his leggings the pressure was exquisite, alien. “Do not start something you aren’t prepared to finish,” he warned for the last time, narrowing his eyes.

“I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Blue snapped back, yanking the blankets down hard enough to make Vio hiss in pain before shoving his hand into Vio’s leggings with no fanfare. “Me on top of you, holding you down, absolutely helpless to stop me doing whatever I want?”

Vio bit back a gasp, the picture clear in his head now, harder than ever. He felt himself throb in Blue’s grasp.

Well. It seemed Blue wasn’t wrong.

He shuddered, pushed up into Blue’s calloused hand, felt the rough skin sliding down his shaft and back up, fisting at the top over the sensitive head and squeezing. The angle was terrible. He wanted to watch, wanted to see Blue’s furious, embarrassed face as he jacks Vio off in this tiny room, trapped by his own damn pride.

But… he wanted to touch Blue too.

He took that thought and probed it, turning it to and fro in his mind as if it were a precious gem, examining all its facets. Did he want to touch Blue? Want to feel him, hot and heavy in his palm, want to touch and stroke and caress and maybe even bend down and take him into his mouth as far as he can, suck and lick till he spills salty-bitter down his throat, want to hear his noises as he tries and fails to stifle them into his hand—

Blue’s eyes met his own, just as angry and mortified and _aroused_ as he could have hoped for, and Vio almost came right then and there.

_Fucks sake, yes, he does want._

He reached out with his uninjured arm; batted Blue away and ignored his startled noise, grabbed his belt and tugged him forward. Blue staggered and almost lost his balance, caught himself on Vio’s uninjured side, thank the Three. “The fuck are you doing?” he barked, all bluster and hot air, and Vio didn’t feel the need to answer while he undid Blue’s belt and flung it to the foot of the bed.

“Vio,” Blue said, softer now, wary, and Vio rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he asked, layering his voice with as much derision as possible while he undoes the laces at the front of Blue’s leggings, sliding his hand inside as soon as he has room. Blue gasped, any tirade he might have been about to break into cut short as Vio palmed him from root to tip. Gratifyingly, he was just as hard as Vio.

Blue tried to say something else, appeared to think about it, and let out a harsh breath. “Faster,” he muttered instead. “More at the top.”

“Excuse you?” Vio said as he narrowed his eyes, not speeding up an iota.

“You heard me!” Blue leaned forward, fisted his right hand in the hair at the back of Vio’s head. “Figures you wouldn’t know how to give a proper handjob.”

“Oh, and you do?” Vio twisted his hand a particular way and Blue shuddered.

“Better’n you.”

“I would say not.”

“And why the fuck not?” Blue bristled and tightened his hold, and Vio bit back a moan, swallows it whole, said instead, “A proper handjob does not stop until someone has _finished_.”

“Oh.” Blue frowns. “You’re an ass.” With no further ado he swung himself over into Vio’s lap, yanking both their leggings down further, and rolled their hips together. Vio couldn’t help but swear at the feel, and again as Blue took them both into one hand, his other still fisted tight into Vio’s hair.

There was no more room for witty repartee—Vio quickly lost himself to pleasure, his hand squeezing tight around Blue’s own. Blue leaned his forehead against Vio’s, adjusted their angles until he could rock against him as they moved their hands, panted into Vio’s neck when Vio threw his head back, and Vio moaned when Blue bit down onto the junction of his shoulder.

They were sloppy now, two different rhythms as both pushed themselves further, as Blue tugged Vio’s head further back to suck a mark under his jaw, as Vio pushed Blue’s hand away and Blue’s moved down to fondle lower, as Vio gasped and pushed himself into the searching hand and squeezed his own until Blue gasped in turn.

And then it was too much—Vio leaned forward to muffle his cry in the fabric of Blue’s shirt, felt himself pulsing, spilling over into his hand, and then Blue swore once, short and sharp, shuddered and jerked his hips into Vio’s tight hold before he slumped forward, pinning Vio to the headboard.

It was very quiet, their mingled breaths the only noise.

Vio was the first to speak, grimacing at the mess in his hand and on his clothes. “Get me a towel,” he said, hoarse and satisfied.

Blue just snorted, leaned further into him and did not move.

“Blue,” Vio narrowed his eyes. “Unless you want me to wipe this onto your shirt, get me a towel.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Blue said after a moment. Vio could feel him smirking into his neck, so he shrugged (and winced as the shrug pulled the wound on his shoulder), lifted his hand, and deliberately wiped it from between Blue’s shoulders to the small of his back.

The shitstorm that followed was, in his opinion, _completely_ worth it.


End file.
